


Red Light

by watanuki_sama



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, It's not a songfic, Season 1, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 20:56:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watanuki_sama/pseuds/watanuki_sama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't understand. It wasn't supposed to be like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Light

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 03/11/2010 on ff.net under the penname 'EFAW'.

They were stopped at a red light. Red for _stop_. Green for go. Yellow for _slow things down a bit_. He wondered when green had become red, and how he had totally missed yellow. Tim stared stonily at the glowing light, wondering why sound wasn't quite reaching his ears. He knew that his face was normally completely expressive and he couldn't hide a thing, but he was pretty sure that right now, he wasn't betraying anything on his face. He was too stunned to feel anything, too shocked to be hurt.

"McGee?"

Her voice was concerned, softly cutting through the thick bubbles in his ears and piercing his brain. The word hurt. They hadn't become close enough for her to call him by his first name, not yet. They were still at that slightly-tentative, learning-about-each-other stage. He'd hoped they would get closer, so much closer than this. Oh, they'd been closer, physically, considering what they did at her place in the dark, but he'd been hoping for something more…intimate. There was a closeness that was different than sex when someone you loved and cared for said your first name, or when the two of you slept -simply slept- together in a bed, knowing that each other would be there in the morning. He'd hoped to get to that stage with her.

But it was all crashing down now, and he was mesmerized by the red light. _Stop_. Stop because you're going too fast.

But he hadn't been. He hadn't gone fast at all. Sure, dating and then her bed had passed quickly, but the other stuff, the personal stuff, he hadn't pushed. They'd gotten to know each other slowly, and he hadn't pushed his feelings onto her. They'd gotten to know each other, and Tim had just fallen harder and faster. She was so different from him, but there was so much in common too. They'd clicked, in a way that he'd never clicked with anyone before. He liked her. He thought she liked him too.

Apparently he was wrong. She _did_ like him. But not like that.

"McGee?"

Time slowed to a crawl, and he suddenly found himself hating the world. It wasn't an emotion he felt often, but right now, he felt it. It was a calm, peaceful Sunday morning in Washington D.C. A beautiful, clear, sunny day. The skies were the clearest blue he'd ever seen, people were walking by smiling and holding each other's hands, and they were driving along, enjoying each other's company.

It shouldn't be like this. It was supposed to be dark and dreary when goodbye came. It should be raining, the heavens crying what he couldn't cry. It should be dark, the middle of the night, so he wouldn't have to see her face twist in concern and worry and near-tears. He didn't understand. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Today was all wrong. This was _wrong_ and he _hated_ it.

She'd just turned to him and said it. They'd been driving, and he'd been talking, and they'd pulled up to the red and she'd turned to him. He'd thought she was going to say something about the beautiful weather they were having, or date they'd gone on last night. Maybe something about the good food or the small fiasco when he'd bumped into a waiter and had soup splashed across his shirt and she'd laughed. With her, it was impossible to figure out. Either choice was just as equally possible, and she would throw an extra choice in there for fun. It was how she was unpredictable. She was so unpredictable that it was predictable, if that made any sense. He'd gotten used to it.

But she'd just turn to him, her eyes dark and worried, and said "It's over."

The worst part was her tone of voice. There was no pep, like she usually had. But there were no tears. No anger. She didn't get mad, she didn't sound like she was holding back tears. No, that would be too much to hope for. He might have suspected it coming then.

No, she said it like she was stating a well-known fact. _The sky is blue. Dogs run around. It's over._

_We're over._

He didn't understand. He liked her. She liked him. They connected, clicked. Why was it over? Did he do something wrong, say something wrong? Did he move to fast even though he was trying not to? What pushed her away and made her push him away? He didn't understand, but the words wouldn't come out of his mouth. He opened his mouth to ask, and the words stayed rooted in his throat. He swallowed, closed his mouth.

"McGee?"

Slowly, painfully, he dragged his gaze away from the red light. His eyes moved slowly across the landscape, taking in the information in front of him on the path to her face.

He could see through the back window of the car in front of him. A mother was reaching behind her seat, gently rocking the car seat to settle her fussing baby. On the corner, an old man in Sunday black was standing neck to a kid carrying a skateboard and listening to headphones. Behind the people on the sidewalk, a dog was trotting along beside his owner's feet, tail wagging a mile a minute.

Time moved on. The world turned. Things changed. But only for other people. His world had come crashing down around his ears, and he wasn't sure why he wasn't dead. His heart was breaking in his chest, and biology had taught him that the body couldn't live without the heart. He should be dead right now. With this pain, he _wanted_ to be dead right now.

He loved her. At this moment, he knew it for a fact. He loved her and didn't want to live without her.

But she didn't love him, and that made all the difference.

Slowly, after spending an eternity to travel a moment, his gaze locked onto hers. He could see the feelings in her eyes. Concern. Fear. Pain. Worry. Hope. He didn't understand what it meant, didn't know what that mesh of feelings meant and why he couldn't change anything. He wanted to find the words, wanted to say that right thing to make her change her mind and come back to him. To take back her words -" _It's over_ "- and say it was just a mistake, that they weren't really over at all.

But he saw a finality in her eyes, a knowledge that this was the end, and it _was_ over. Maybe life would move on. Maybe they would still be friends. Or maybe he would be left standing still, staring at this red light while she continued on with her life. Maybe.

"McGee?"

He searched for his voice, found it, grabbed it and didn't let go. The smile he forced was so brittle, so cracked around the edges that it was a wonder it didn't fall off his face and land in the pile of ashes his heart had become. There was no humor or laughter or mirth in the smile. Just pain and understanding. Even if he didn't understand why this was happening, he could at least pretend. He couldn't lie for his life, but he was damn good at pretending everything was alright. Even if it wasn't.

Especially if it wasn't.

"Yeah, Abbs, I'm all right. I understand."

Even if he didn't.

He turned to look out the windshield again, and she sighed and followed his gaze, her nails clicking on the steering wheel. Where there had been a comfortable lull before, now there was just a loud silence, buzzing silently with his pain and her mixed feelings.

He didn't understand.

The light turned green.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song _Red Light_ by David Nail.


End file.
